With most audiences gravitating towards movie theaters, there's been a lot of talk lately about making theater more high-tech, with moving scenery and live 3D projections, in order to compete with film.
I would like to suggest that the best way to compete with your rival is not to try to offer the same product they do, but to offer something you can't get from them.
I was reading the news this morning, and looking at all the reviews of Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark, which actually opened last night! As in, for reals opened. While much improved, it's still being described as "bombastic", "overblown", and "soulless". Similarly, I wanted to see the Metropolitan Opera's Die Walkure (forgive the lack of umlaut, I can't kind the keyboard shortcut) last month. While many reviews acknowledged the evocative images conjured by the impressive stage machinery, they complained that it was distracting, dwarfing the performers and pulling focus away from the heart of the story.
On the other end of the spectrum, I was reading about PigPen Theatre Company's show "The Mountain Song", who tell their story with practical forms of puppetry such as a dress on a stick, a blanket, and hand puppets (as in, literally just their hands). Shows like this are more often described by critics as "charming", "whimsical", "imaginative" and "intimate".
One of the greatest shows I ever saw (I swear I will sit down and write a comprehensive post about it one of these days) was Shockheaded Peter. I saw an article about it's old-timey, Grand Guignol-style stage effects in the New York Times, and took a last minute bus trip to New York just to see it. Critics (and I) agreed that it was unique, bizarre, and mesmerizing.
I'm working on a couple brainchild project concepts for the near-to-distant-to-possibly-never future, and my foremost concern is not how to give the audiences and experience that rivals the movie theaters, but one so unique they can't possible experience it anywhere else.
Showing posts with label The Metropolitan Opera. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Metropolitan Opera. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Le Comte Ory
I went to see this live screening this past Saturday morning. I had a very full week, and almost didn't go. But these are three of my favorite singers, and I've enjoyed all of director Bartlett Scher's previous work for the Met, and Catherine Zuber designed the costumes. So I dragged myself out of bed, threw on something barely resembling clothes, slapped some Nutella on a slice of banana bread for breakfast, and I went.
It was well worth it. It would've been a huge shame to miss Juan Diego Florez, Diana Damrau, and Joyce DiDonato all in the same show, each of whom is the best in their fach. Besides which, Florez had come directly from the birth of his first child (a son, Leandro). As in, the baby was born at 12:25 PM EST, and the opera began at 1:00 PM. He was clearly running on adrenaline and fumes, but did seemed completely focused on his performance. In the title role, Florez is disguised both as an old hermit and a nun, and his shameless mugging was hilarious.
Oddly, I'm not usually a huge fan of tenors. Sure, I've seen tenors who have been very good, but I don't find myself moved to adoration like I have been with baritones. There are certainly more baritones whose careers I follow than tenors. Don't know why that is. Open to suggestion. But Florez is definitely the exception for me. His voice is thrilling-it has such a bright, exciting sound.
Director Bartlett Scher decided to give this show a sort of a framing device--it is kind of an odd opera, as it is a medieval French farce set during the Crusades, with music composed by an Italian. To try to marry the two sensibilities, Scher set it in a theater during Rossini's time, so you can see period set mechanics and stagehands. For the costumes, Zuber made it look like they had just raided whatever was in the wardrobe closet. It was full of frothy pink confections, but the only thing I didn't entirely like about it was sometimes you'd catch a period from the future--I'd catch a Regency era gown here and there, and it was a bit distracting. But they did fun things like creating a storm with guys on the side of the stage shaking thunder sheets and wind machines, and someone was welding to create lightning (although the camera was having a hard time catching it).
Part of this stage device was a grumpy stage manager, played by Rob Besserer. It was essentially the same character he played in Scher's The Barber of Seville a few years ago, when he played the mute servant. I find it amusing because:
a) he looks like this little stooped over old guy, until the curtain call when he straightens up, and you realize he's the tallest guy on stage
b) he's the same dancer who played Herr Drosselmeier-my favorite character- in the DVD I have of Mark Morris' The Hard Nut.
Other things I enjoyed about the production:
- Choreographed stagehands twirling about while moving trees, therefore dubbed "treeography"
- A bunch of (often bearded) man disguised as nuns, hiding all the wine they've stolen under their habits. They also had a hilarious dance number.
-Rob Besserer's in-character creeping behind Renee Fleming as she introduced the broadcast
-The trio for the three leads as Ory sneaks into Countess Adele's bed, not knowing she's already got his page Isolier in there with her. They are ostensibly in the dark, so there was lots of hilariously entangled limbs and misplaced groping.
Here's a video of the scene I'm referring to, which I kidnapped from the Met's website:
It was well worth it. It would've been a huge shame to miss Juan Diego Florez, Diana Damrau, and Joyce DiDonato all in the same show, each of whom is the best in their fach. Besides which, Florez had come directly from the birth of his first child (a son, Leandro). As in, the baby was born at 12:25 PM EST, and the opera began at 1:00 PM. He was clearly running on adrenaline and fumes, but did seemed completely focused on his performance. In the title role, Florez is disguised both as an old hermit and a nun, and his shameless mugging was hilarious.
Oddly, I'm not usually a huge fan of tenors. Sure, I've seen tenors who have been very good, but I don't find myself moved to adoration like I have been with baritones. There are certainly more baritones whose careers I follow than tenors. Don't know why that is. Open to suggestion. But Florez is definitely the exception for me. His voice is thrilling-it has such a bright, exciting sound.
Director Bartlett Scher decided to give this show a sort of a framing device--it is kind of an odd opera, as it is a medieval French farce set during the Crusades, with music composed by an Italian. To try to marry the two sensibilities, Scher set it in a theater during Rossini's time, so you can see period set mechanics and stagehands. For the costumes, Zuber made it look like they had just raided whatever was in the wardrobe closet. It was full of frothy pink confections, but the only thing I didn't entirely like about it was sometimes you'd catch a period from the future--I'd catch a Regency era gown here and there, and it was a bit distracting. But they did fun things like creating a storm with guys on the side of the stage shaking thunder sheets and wind machines, and someone was welding to create lightning (although the camera was having a hard time catching it).
Part of this stage device was a grumpy stage manager, played by Rob Besserer. It was essentially the same character he played in Scher's The Barber of Seville a few years ago, when he played the mute servant. I find it amusing because:
a) he looks like this little stooped over old guy, until the curtain call when he straightens up, and you realize he's the tallest guy on stage
b) he's the same dancer who played Herr Drosselmeier-my favorite character- in the DVD I have of Mark Morris' The Hard Nut.
Other things I enjoyed about the production:
- Choreographed stagehands twirling about while moving trees, therefore dubbed "treeography"
- A bunch of (often bearded) man disguised as nuns, hiding all the wine they've stolen under their habits. They also had a hilarious dance number.
-Rob Besserer's in-character creeping behind Renee Fleming as she introduced the broadcast
-The trio for the three leads as Ory sneaks into Countess Adele's bed, not knowing she's already got his page Isolier in there with her. They are ostensibly in the dark, so there was lots of hilariously entangled limbs and misplaced groping.
Here's a video of the scene I'm referring to, which I kidnapped from the Met's website:
Friday, March 25, 2011
My Favorite Things- Opera
For fun, I thought I would post some of my favorite opera video clips from YouTube. They're always the first ones I go to. I think everyone finds a version of a song from a show they love, and can't imagine them being done any other way. That's what these are for me.
First we have Joyce DiDonato and Peter Mattei singing the duet "Dunque io Son" from The Barber of Seville, directed by Bartlett Scher for the Metropolitan Opera. The two parts are perfectly balanced, and I love their fun, playful chemistry.
This is from the same production-- "La Callunia" sung by John Relyea. I know it's unusual to enjoy a villainous aria so much, but I love the way the whole song builds from a "little whisper" to "the roar of a cannon".
So, I was surfing channels one day, and I happened across PBS at exactly the point in the show where this clip starts. I kept watching because I loved the old-timey carnival style and tailored suits. Then Kathleen Kim entered and sang The Doll Aria, and blew me away. She has the most amazing precision and clarity. The opera is Les Contes D'Hoffman by Jacques Offenbach, also directed by Bartlett Scher for the Met. The aria itself starts at (5:00), but I recommend watching the whole thing.
Now, the first opera I ever saw when I was a kid was Mozart's The Magic Flute. It was one my grandmother often sung, and I found a version that had run on PBS that I liked a lot. I think that also inspired me to learn German later in life. Papageno was always my favorite character, and as I've mentioned before, I love Simon Keenlyside. He did a great version for Covent Garden where he played Papageno as more of a sad-sack character than the goofy comic relief.
And of course, what is The Magic Flute without the most impressive aria in opera? This version of the Queen of the Night's aria is from the same production, and is undoubtedly my favorite interpretation. Diana Damrau plays the role with the most incredible drama and intensity, but also nuance, that I've ever seen. There's some German dialogue at the start of the clip, and the aria begins at about (2:10)
Well, that was a fun excuse to watch some of my favorite performances again. I hope you liked them, too!
First we have Joyce DiDonato and Peter Mattei singing the duet "Dunque io Son" from The Barber of Seville, directed by Bartlett Scher for the Metropolitan Opera. The two parts are perfectly balanced, and I love their fun, playful chemistry.
This is from the same production-- "La Callunia" sung by John Relyea. I know it's unusual to enjoy a villainous aria so much, but I love the way the whole song builds from a "little whisper" to "the roar of a cannon".
So, I was surfing channels one day, and I happened across PBS at exactly the point in the show where this clip starts. I kept watching because I loved the old-timey carnival style and tailored suits. Then Kathleen Kim entered and sang The Doll Aria, and blew me away. She has the most amazing precision and clarity. The opera is Les Contes D'Hoffman by Jacques Offenbach, also directed by Bartlett Scher for the Met. The aria itself starts at (5:00), but I recommend watching the whole thing.
Now, the first opera I ever saw when I was a kid was Mozart's The Magic Flute. It was one my grandmother often sung, and I found a version that had run on PBS that I liked a lot. I think that also inspired me to learn German later in life. Papageno was always my favorite character, and as I've mentioned before, I love Simon Keenlyside. He did a great version for Covent Garden where he played Papageno as more of a sad-sack character than the goofy comic relief.
And of course, what is The Magic Flute without the most impressive aria in opera? This version of the Queen of the Night's aria is from the same production, and is undoubtedly my favorite interpretation. Diana Damrau plays the role with the most incredible drama and intensity, but also nuance, that I've ever seen. There's some German dialogue at the start of the clip, and the aria begins at about (2:10)
Well, that was a fun excuse to watch some of my favorite performances again. I hope you liked them, too!
Friday, February 18, 2011
2011-2012 HD Season at the Met
The Metropolitan Opera just announced which shows are going to be included in it's Live in HD screening series next year, so of course I'm already picking out which ones I want to see.
A new production of Mozart's Don Giovanni will star Mariusz Kwiecien, a handsome young baritone who is already well known for the role. I'd love to see Kweicien, but I think I'll wait and see how the production looks before putting this on in my itinerary.
I know nothing about Philip Glass's Satyagraha, but the directors are Phelim McDermott and Julian Crouch, so that alone makes it worth my while. Those two are best known for directing the critic-proof musical The Addams Family, but more importantly Crouch directed Shockheaded Peter, so you know anything with his name on it will be creative, stylish, innovative and whimsical.
This is a revival, but those two are also directing a new production of The Enchanted Island, so I may have to see that one, too.
(My feelings are more mixed on Philip Glass; he might just not be my cup of tea. My DVD of Jean Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast has an optional track he composed for it, and I don't think the two pieces fit together very well. Interestingly, I was in the play Philip Glass Buys a Loaf of Bread a year or two ago, which still causes me to start chanting Glass-style rhythms when opening the bread box.)
I will probably see Manon just because of Paolo Szot. He is just ridiculously charismatic and engaging to watch on stage. I will never forgive my DVR for failing to tape the PBS broadcast of the final performance of South Pacific.
And of course I'll be finishing out the second half of Wagner's Ring cycle.
Here is next year's complete HD screening schedule. Which ones do you want to see?
A new production of Mozart's Don Giovanni will star Mariusz Kwiecien, a handsome young baritone who is already well known for the role. I'd love to see Kweicien, but I think I'll wait and see how the production looks before putting this on in my itinerary.
I know nothing about Philip Glass's Satyagraha, but the directors are Phelim McDermott and Julian Crouch, so that alone makes it worth my while. Those two are best known for directing the critic-proof musical The Addams Family, but more importantly Crouch directed Shockheaded Peter, so you know anything with his name on it will be creative, stylish, innovative and whimsical.
This is a revival, but those two are also directing a new production of The Enchanted Island, so I may have to see that one, too.
(My feelings are more mixed on Philip Glass; he might just not be my cup of tea. My DVD of Jean Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast has an optional track he composed for it, and I don't think the two pieces fit together very well. Interestingly, I was in the play Philip Glass Buys a Loaf of Bread a year or two ago, which still causes me to start chanting Glass-style rhythms when opening the bread box.)
I will probably see Manon just because of Paolo Szot. He is just ridiculously charismatic and engaging to watch on stage. I will never forgive my DVR for failing to tape the PBS broadcast of the final performance of South Pacific.
And of course I'll be finishing out the second half of Wagner's Ring cycle.
Here is next year's complete HD screening schedule. Which ones do you want to see?
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
La Fanciulla Del West
I know I promised more Dracula, and I'll get back to the vampires soon, but I wanted to talk about this show before it was too long gone from my memory.
Last week my opera-going companion and I went to the re-broadcast of The Metropolitan Opera's La Fanciulla Del West. We missed the live broadcast due, but this ended up being a good choice. It ran in the evening (as opposed to the early mornings of the live broadcasts), and was therefore much less crowded, and we got to sit wherever we wanted (we arrived late-ish to Don Carlo, and got stuck with the chump seats down in front).
I'm not going to comment too much on the show itself, the Met puts on top-notch work with the biggest stars, and they were performing Puccini's favorite of his own operas, so there's certainly nothing to complain about (ok, well some people complained that Deborah Voight was clearly pacing herself, and was therefore off near the start of the show, but my ear is not skilled enough to comment).
What I did find interesting was the way the relationship between the romantic leads, Minnie and Dick Johnson (Marcello Giordani), grew as the show went on. How many operas are there where the lovers merely catch a glimpse of each other, or in some cases only see a picture of each other, and they're suddenly bonded in this deep and unbreakable love.
In Fanciulla, Dick and Minnie met out on the road a couple weeks before the action of the show. They hit it off, but nothing really came of it. Then he turns up in her saloon, and over the course of the first act they slowly flirt and get to know each other better. Minnie admits that she doesn't think much of herself, but Dick reassures her of what he sees in her: a big, warm heart, and the face of an angel. It was really nice to see a show where the leads have a reason to get together, other than that the show says they must.
My companion and I were amused by the between-act interviews with the cast, conducted by Tosca star Sondra Radvanovsky. The most common question was "is it hard to get into character playing a cowboy"? All these men, especially the Italians, came of age in the era of Clint Eastwood and Sergio Leone. Every one of them wanted to be John Wayne as a kid! These guys spend most of their days at work in tight and funny hats--they must be thrilled that their kids finally think they're cool for once!
I also had the very strange experience of getting into an argument about the Transformers movies while at the opera. It started because we were talking about Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark (and what theater fan/comic book nerd isn't?) One of the main complaints coming from people who have seen the show (and then tweeted or blogged about it or whatever) is that it's hard to tell why the action is playing out in that particular way. It made me think of my reaction to the recent Transformers films: "Why is winning this fight, and why?" Action should be clear, whether on stage or on film. You can't just have a lot of stuff going on.
Last week my opera-going companion and I went to the re-broadcast of The Metropolitan Opera's La Fanciulla Del West. We missed the live broadcast due, but this ended up being a good choice. It ran in the evening (as opposed to the early mornings of the live broadcasts), and was therefore much less crowded, and we got to sit wherever we wanted (we arrived late-ish to Don Carlo, and got stuck with the chump seats down in front).
I'm not going to comment too much on the show itself, the Met puts on top-notch work with the biggest stars, and they were performing Puccini's favorite of his own operas, so there's certainly nothing to complain about (ok, well some people complained that Deborah Voight was clearly pacing herself, and was therefore off near the start of the show, but my ear is not skilled enough to comment).
What I did find interesting was the way the relationship between the romantic leads, Minnie and Dick Johnson (Marcello Giordani), grew as the show went on. How many operas are there where the lovers merely catch a glimpse of each other, or in some cases only see a picture of each other, and they're suddenly bonded in this deep and unbreakable love.
In Fanciulla, Dick and Minnie met out on the road a couple weeks before the action of the show. They hit it off, but nothing really came of it. Then he turns up in her saloon, and over the course of the first act they slowly flirt and get to know each other better. Minnie admits that she doesn't think much of herself, but Dick reassures her of what he sees in her: a big, warm heart, and the face of an angel. It was really nice to see a show where the leads have a reason to get together, other than that the show says they must.
My companion and I were amused by the between-act interviews with the cast, conducted by Tosca star Sondra Radvanovsky. The most common question was "is it hard to get into character playing a cowboy"? All these men, especially the Italians, came of age in the era of Clint Eastwood and Sergio Leone. Every one of them wanted to be John Wayne as a kid! These guys spend most of their days at work in tight and funny hats--they must be thrilled that their kids finally think they're cool for once!
I also had the very strange experience of getting into an argument about the Transformers movies while at the opera. It started because we were talking about Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark (and what theater fan/comic book nerd isn't?) One of the main complaints coming from people who have seen the show (and then tweeted or blogged about it or whatever) is that it's hard to tell why the action is playing out in that particular way. It made me think of my reaction to the recent Transformers films: "Why is winning this fight, and why?" Action should be clear, whether on stage or on film. You can't just have a lot of stuff going on.
Monday, December 13, 2010
The Met's Live in HD screening of Don Carlo
Saturday morning, my opera-companion/roommate and I got up early to attend a live transmission of Don Carlo from The Metropolitan opera. I wanted to see this one for two reasons: Verdi and Simon Keenlyside.
Verdi is a favorite of mine--I adore La Traviata, and I wasn't familiar with Don Carlo, so I wanted to check it out. As I mentioned before in my post about Hamlet, Simon Keenlyside is a great performer (I strongly recommend the Covent Garden recording of The Magic Flute, in which he plays Papageno), and I agree with the assessment in the NY Times review that he brings out the best in others on stage with him.
Ok, enough about him. Don Carlo requires several strong leads, and they were all terrific. Roberto Alagna in the title role is a very appealing leading man; Marina Poplavskaya plays his love Elisabeth, who is a very complicated character--she is engaged to Don Carlo, who arranges to meet her and they hit it off, only to have his father Phillip decide that he will marry her himself, instead. Elisabeth is a very honorable character, in my opinion. She takes one for the team by marrying Phillip to cement a peace treaty, and despite her love for his son, she never betrays him. Nor does she misrepresent her feelings; when Phillip confronts her she doesn't lie to him, either.
The other female lead is Princess Eboli, who interferes with the lovers when she thinks she's spotted treachery. Anna Smirnova plays her and she's a bigger girl, and as a costumer I couldn't help noticing how the excellent tailoring of her gowns emphasized her her curves to give her a sensual, Rubenesque quality. Eboli is a passionate creature, and Smirnova knocked it out of the park with her powerful aria in which she curses where her pride and vanity have lead her.
One of the strongest performances was given by Ferruccio Furlanetto as King Phillip, who has a gorgeous voice. He has a really interesting character arc, because you have to think "this is the bad guy", until he given his aria where he admits to his doubts and fear of inadequacy. This section is so well-structured because you think he's the villain of the piece, and just as he's starting the create sympathy in you, you realize "this isn't the bad guy, because there's someone much worse". We're in the midst of the Spanish Inquisition, and the monarchy is ruled by the church. Enter the Grand Inquisitor (Eric Halfvarson)--he's old and blind, he walks with shuffly steps and his hand shakes. And he is freaking terrifying.
One of my favorite things about the opera itself was the final aria between Don Carlo and Elisabeth. They meet secretly and admit that though they love each other, they have no future together. So they vow to take this passion that they share, and go out and do something constructive with it. I thought that was really beautiful. In most stories of star-crossed love, the lovers are crushed under the weight of their circumstances. It was so nice then to see these to people say "let's use this for something good instead".
I was also happy with the design elements of the production. It used a simple color palette, mostly black, red, and gold. It was in-period, but everything had a very clean, modern look to it. I saw some complaints from other arts bloggers about the Lego-ey set, but I liked the use of things like the tall walls with small square windows, through which dramatic shafts of light could shine. The costumes were unfussy, with most of the detail in small areas of beading, and otherwise relied on strong fabric choices and tailoring that creates clean silhouettes.
The problems? Well, it's long. Don't start grumbling about modern attention spans, 4 1/2 hours is a long time to sit and watch a show no matter who you are. This is just how things were in Verdi's time, and there was a very narrow set of ideals for opera structure. The singing was glorious, so I didn't mind that much, but after that much sitting your body gets fussy. Also there was some clumsy camera work that would occasionally get lost in the wrong part of the stage, or stuck on an angle of the floor.
It's also worth noting the enjoyable between-act interviews conducted by soprano Deborah Voigt; particularly with her La Fanciulla del West co-star Marcello Giordani--when she asked what his favorite part of the production was (insinuating that the answer should be "Working with you!"), Giordani got a mischievous look in his eyes, and went in for a passionate kiss! The audience (and the soprano) were extremely amused, and being a consummate professional she straightened herself up and continued introducing the next interview!
Verdi is a favorite of mine--I adore La Traviata, and I wasn't familiar with Don Carlo, so I wanted to check it out. As I mentioned before in my post about Hamlet, Simon Keenlyside is a great performer (I strongly recommend the Covent Garden recording of The Magic Flute, in which he plays Papageno), and I agree with the assessment in the NY Times review that he brings out the best in others on stage with him.
Ok, enough about him. Don Carlo requires several strong leads, and they were all terrific. Roberto Alagna in the title role is a very appealing leading man; Marina Poplavskaya plays his love Elisabeth, who is a very complicated character--she is engaged to Don Carlo, who arranges to meet her and they hit it off, only to have his father Phillip decide that he will marry her himself, instead. Elisabeth is a very honorable character, in my opinion. She takes one for the team by marrying Phillip to cement a peace treaty, and despite her love for his son, she never betrays him. Nor does she misrepresent her feelings; when Phillip confronts her she doesn't lie to him, either.
Roberto Alagna stars in the title role, opposite Marina Poplavskaya as Elisabeth.
Photo: Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera
Keenlyside with Anna Smirnova (Princess Eboli)
Photo: Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera
One of the strongest performances was given by Ferruccio Furlanetto as King Phillip, who has a gorgeous voice. He has a really interesting character arc, because you have to think "this is the bad guy", until he given his aria where he admits to his doubts and fear of inadequacy. This section is so well-structured because you think he's the villain of the piece, and just as he's starting the create sympathy in you, you realize "this isn't the bad guy, because there's someone much worse". We're in the midst of the Spanish Inquisition, and the monarchy is ruled by the church. Enter the Grand Inquisitor (Eric Halfvarson)--he's old and blind, he walks with shuffly steps and his hand shakes. And he is freaking terrifying.
Photo: Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera
Ferruccio Furlanetto as King Phillip
I was also happy with the design elements of the production. It used a simple color palette, mostly black, red, and gold. It was in-period, but everything had a very clean, modern look to it. I saw some complaints from other arts bloggers about the Lego-ey set, but I liked the use of things like the tall walls with small square windows, through which dramatic shafts of light could shine. The costumes were unfussy, with most of the detail in small areas of beading, and otherwise relied on strong fabric choices and tailoring that creates clean silhouettes.
The problems? Well, it's long. Don't start grumbling about modern attention spans, 4 1/2 hours is a long time to sit and watch a show no matter who you are. This is just how things were in Verdi's time, and there was a very narrow set of ideals for opera structure. The singing was glorious, so I didn't mind that much, but after that much sitting your body gets fussy. Also there was some clumsy camera work that would occasionally get lost in the wrong part of the stage, or stuck on an angle of the floor.
It's also worth noting the enjoyable between-act interviews conducted by soprano Deborah Voigt; particularly with her La Fanciulla del West co-star Marcello Giordani--when she asked what his favorite part of the production was (insinuating that the answer should be "Working with you!"), Giordani got a mischievous look in his eyes, and went in for a passionate kiss! The audience (and the soprano) were extremely amused, and being a consummate professional she straightened herself up and continued introducing the next interview!
Thursday, November 18, 2010
The Opera That Made Me Yell At My Television
It was a drizzly Saturday afternoon earlier this fall. I was snuggled up with my cat, a snack and some knitting (I sound like an old lady, don't I? I'm 27. I swear), and settled in to watch The Metrpolitan Opera's production of "Hamlet", which they had previously broadcast live in HD, and was running on TV. I'm a fan of Simon Keenlyside, who was playing the title role, and was really looking forward to watching it.
Before long, my roommates started hearing the following exclamations coming from my room:
"What are you doing?"
"That's not what happens!"
"What? WHAT? WHAT??!!!"
Considering my drama education, it's safe to say I'm pretty familiar with Shakespeare's Hamlet, and to quote star Simon Keenlyside in his between-acts interview with Renee Fleming, "it's Hamlet, it's just not Shakespeare's Hamlet". Now, I wasn't expecting them to follow the original to the letter, obviously to translate it between mediums you need to streamline the story and simplify it to its core themes. I'd say what Ambroise Thomas's opera does is pluck subtext from some scenes, stick it onto others, and also grossly rearrange the show.
The change that bothers me the most (if you don't want to know what's different, stop reading here) is the relationships of Polonius and Ophelie (here, in the French) to Hamlet. Polonius barely appears until halfway through the show, at which point he's revealed to be a co-conspirator. Hamlet discovers this, and becomes the reason he rejects Ophelie--because her father helped kill his. She loses her mind and kills herself, then, not because of the torment of her father being murdered by her beloved, but simply because her would-be fiance turned her down. This makes her a weaker, much less complex creature; but very much of-the-time, as this was first performend in 1868. But come on, if I went nuts and killed myself every time a man let me down...I would be dead by now.
Oh, and speaking of death, Polonius doesn't even die! And Hamlet doesn't duel Laertes in the final scene, he kills him in a fight right before Ophelie's funeral, when he doesn't know she's dead yet. And then the ghost shows up at the end to help Hamlet kill Claudius.
There were a few touches I liked--like when Hamlet is waiting on the roof with Bernardo and Horatio, you can hear the sounds of the wedding party going on in the background, and they look at Hamlet as if to say "Sorry, dude." They also include a love duet for Hamlet and Ophelie at the beginning, which is nice because in Shakespeare's play you never actually see them together as a couple before things start going awry (I also like the fact that soprano Marlis Peterson's skirt was so floofy, they both had to smoosh it down so that Keenlyside could lie in her lap).
There's also a great scene for Hamlet at the banquet after the Players put on their show where he actually comes out and accuses Claudius of murder (which did bother me, because that messes up so much of Hamlet's character. He has so many scenes in the play about his self-loathing and lack of courage because he is unwilling or afraid to accuse Claudius openly!), but no one believes him becuase he's drunk, and then he climbs on the table and pours the blood red wine all over himself (see below):
Speaking of which, Simon Keenlyside's performance was completely terrific. He has a gorgeous voice (I will admit a weakness for baritones-I love that full, rich sound), he's very handsome, and has a down-to-earth, likeable stage presence. And then there's his great acting choices; in moments of fury, he's smashing the furniture with rage, and then and in his frustration at Claudius digs little holes in the wall with his knife.
Obviously, I'm not very impressed with the translation of the work from play to opera. I'm irritated by the changes to the plot, and the music didn't really linger with me. However, the overall production elements were quite good. Hamlet is a great part, and Keenlyside performed the heck out of it--the only drawback may have been that he is so interesting to watch, I felt like the air went out of the show when he wasn't on stage.
Before long, my roommates started hearing the following exclamations coming from my room:
"What are you doing?"
"That's not what happens!"
"What? WHAT? WHAT??!!!"
Considering my drama education, it's safe to say I'm pretty familiar with Shakespeare's Hamlet, and to quote star Simon Keenlyside in his between-acts interview with Renee Fleming, "it's Hamlet, it's just not Shakespeare's Hamlet". Now, I wasn't expecting them to follow the original to the letter, obviously to translate it between mediums you need to streamline the story and simplify it to its core themes. I'd say what Ambroise Thomas's opera does is pluck subtext from some scenes, stick it onto others, and also grossly rearrange the show.
The change that bothers me the most (if you don't want to know what's different, stop reading here) is the relationships of Polonius and Ophelie (here, in the French) to Hamlet. Polonius barely appears until halfway through the show, at which point he's revealed to be a co-conspirator. Hamlet discovers this, and becomes the reason he rejects Ophelie--because her father helped kill his. She loses her mind and kills herself, then, not because of the torment of her father being murdered by her beloved, but simply because her would-be fiance turned her down. This makes her a weaker, much less complex creature; but very much of-the-time, as this was first performend in 1868. But come on, if I went nuts and killed myself every time a man let me down...I would be dead by now.
Oh, and speaking of death, Polonius doesn't even die! And Hamlet doesn't duel Laertes in the final scene, he kills him in a fight right before Ophelie's funeral, when he doesn't know she's dead yet. And then the ghost shows up at the end to help Hamlet kill Claudius.
There were a few touches I liked--like when Hamlet is waiting on the roof with Bernardo and Horatio, you can hear the sounds of the wedding party going on in the background, and they look at Hamlet as if to say "Sorry, dude." They also include a love duet for Hamlet and Ophelie at the beginning, which is nice because in Shakespeare's play you never actually see them together as a couple before things start going awry (I also like the fact that soprano Marlis Peterson's skirt was so floofy, they both had to smoosh it down so that Keenlyside could lie in her lap).
There's also a great scene for Hamlet at the banquet after the Players put on their show where he actually comes out and accuses Claudius of murder (which did bother me, because that messes up so much of Hamlet's character. He has so many scenes in the play about his self-loathing and lack of courage because he is unwilling or afraid to accuse Claudius openly!), but no one believes him becuase he's drunk, and then he climbs on the table and pours the blood red wine all over himself (see below):
Simon Keenlyside/The Metropolitan Opera
Speaking of which, Simon Keenlyside's performance was completely terrific. He has a gorgeous voice (I will admit a weakness for baritones-I love that full, rich sound), he's very handsome, and has a down-to-earth, likeable stage presence. And then there's his great acting choices; in moments of fury, he's smashing the furniture with rage, and then and in his frustration at Claudius digs little holes in the wall with his knife.
Simon Keenlyside/The Metropolitan Opera
Obviously, I'm not very impressed with the translation of the work from play to opera. I'm irritated by the changes to the plot, and the music didn't really linger with me. However, the overall production elements were quite good. Hamlet is a great part, and Keenlyside performed the heck out of it--the only drawback may have been that he is so interesting to watch, I felt like the air went out of the show when he wasn't on stage.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Das Rheingold
A couple weeks ago, my male roommate and I went to see the Metropolitan Opera’s Live in HD screening of Das Rheingold. It was 10am here in California, and we were watching the opera being performed live in New York City, so that was pretty cool. I was excited about it for weeks beforehand, going to the website and watching all the “making of” videos and reading the articles on it.
Seeing the screening was really interesting; like I said, it was 10am, and we were at a movie theater in Burbank, and it was packed. As we scooched through a row to find the only two free seats available (conveniently smack-dab in the middle and halfway back, just where I like it), it became quickly apparent that we were the youngest people in the theater. By decades. I had stuffed my purse with homemade mini-cookies and fruit leather, because I couldn’t fathom watching an opera while eating popcorn and Junior Mints. Before the show they did a little behind-the scenes featurette on the development of the impressive stage mechanics, which was very funny seeing the Rheinmaiden’s nervousness doing the wirework for the first time. Then they did a live interview with baritone Bryn Terfel, who sang the role of Wotan that night. I was excited to be seeing Mr. Terfel in something, because when I was taking voice lessons in my teens, I watched a short documentary on him on Bravo (back when they aired arts programs) in which he was preparing a production of Don Giovanni. It was right before I left for a lesson, and I remember being really inspired by him.
I loved the opera itself; there’s lots of resources on the stage mechanics online, but to summarize: there’s a huge spine across the stage of seesaw-like planks that spin to form different orientations. The use of light and projections turns it from the Rhein river itself ( I was an exchange student, so I use the German spellings of things) to the river bank, the hall of the gods, or an underground mine. Also, infrared technology allows the projections to interact with the performers, so to quote director Robert LePage “The Rheinmaden who sings the loudest gets the most bubbles”. Also pebbles on the riverbank would be knocked aside as they swished their fishy tails back in forth, or fall in a cascade as the dwarf Alberich tried to climb up to reach them.
Here's a link to the video preview so you can see what I mean: http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid610237632001?bctid=615451417001
I thought this production was incredibly successful, because every part of the impressive technical elements was used to help tell the story. Things like putting the two giants up on the platform above the other performers, and giving them costumes with bulky understructures actually made them look like huge, towering creatures. I’m very interesting in theatre as a tool of communication, and what you tell the audience through the choices you make onstage.
The LA Opera recently performed Wagner’s entire Ring Cycle, an event which generated a lot of buzz. Honestly, I can’t afford to go the opera here, so I didn’t see it myself. My roommate and I checked out the ticket prices, and we can’t afford the worst seat in the house. But I found this video preview on their YouTube page, so the production looked a little like this:
Now, some people really like avant-garde theatre, and I have no problem with Regietheater—I really like it if it finds a way to highlight the themes of the show, or amplify an aspect of the characters, or lets me look at it in a new way. Bu the only thing I get from the LA production of Das Rheingold is Giant Puppet People. And I’m not sure what Giant Puppet People says about the story. Apparently neither did many of the performers themselves, who complained of the staging being dangerous, uncomfortable, and inhibiting to their performances. But obviously I didn’t see it myself, so maybe someone who did could tell me if they thought the choices were effective. (Also, lightsabers?)
Going back to the New York production for a moment, I looked at a couple of other Opera blogs, and saw a lot of people bagging on the costumes, which I really didn’t get. Not that I know better than other people because I’m a designer, but I thought they worked. They looked good with the other production elements, they were attractive and suited the characters, and they had glowy bits! I actually found myself especially attracted to Donner’s costume—I liked the line of it, the details of the armor on his right arm, and the dark silver color with his red hair was a really interesting contrast. He looked really cool.
From left: Adam Diegel (Froh), Dwayne Croft (Donner), Bryn Terfel (Wotan), Stephanie Blythe (Fricka)
Photo: Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera
The best thing though, about the Met’s production was that right after I saw it, I said “wow, that was a really terrific show”. And then all weekend, it kept popping back up in my head, and I kept saying to my roommate, “hey, you know what else I liked…” I think that’s when you know you’ve gotten a show right.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)